Charm
by MisterCheezecake
Summary: The Miz is on top of the world, but nothing lasts forever when it happens: he gets ensnared by a debuting Superstar's charm. Looks can be deceiving and there's obviously more to the young star than meets the eye. Yaoi love story. Contains lemon. R/R encouraged.
1. Miz

_To be honest, I don't fancy myself a good writer. But who knows, hopefully, I can learn.__  
__Let's be honest. I know very little about backstage going-ons at WWE. Forgive if my story is somewhat inaccurate in that aspect._  
_I based the story around Miz and my OC, but characters like Dolph and Layla will play into it frequently._  
_I plan to use a lot of characters, if you like; you can send a request or ideas. I'll likely need them. x]_  
_Reviews aren't mandatory, but highly encouraged. Let me know what sucks, and if possible, what rocks._  
_Cheers all. =]_

Mike was actually pumped for a change. After months of pushing for something interesting to happen for his character, creative had finally listened, and it seemed like Mike was in line for a push at the WWE Championship. He'd been in the main event before, in fact, he emerged victorious in a WWE championship match at Wrestlemania. How many WWE superstars could brag about that? After that, Mike had slipped into irrelevancy slowly but surely.  
It was okay, everybody has to pay their dues, and not everybody can be in the title picture at once, but Mike wanted something to work for. Jobbing out to several other superstars was finally getting old. And last week at Raw, the Miz had pinned John Cena to become the #1 contender to the WWE championship, held by CM Punk. The part that spoke to Mike, and the entire roster, was that Mike pinned Cena cleanly without cheating. Because Cena was seen as the face of the company, that spoke out a lot.

Tonight, Mike would be facing WWE Champion CM Punk, John Cena and his former mentee Alex Riley in a six man tag match. His tag partners would be the former #1 contender Chris Jericho, who by the way was not happy about being de-pushed for the Miz, and a brand new superstar. Miz was stunned when he heard the news. New superstars debuting in the main event was incredibly rare. Already in his gear, Mike had ten or so minutes to spare before he was called up. He decided to call his girlfriend Maryse and check up on her, but she didn't pick up.  
'C'est Maryse, je ne peux pas tre atteint, je vais revenir bient t.' came the somewhat tired reply from her message tone. Although Miz had been dating the French-Canadian ex-diva for a long time now, he still didn't know what that actually meant.

"You're up now, Mike." Johnny Ace's irritating voice jolted Mike out of his daze.  
Mike signalled with his hand, and followed his boss. "So this new kid, is he any good?" Mike asked as he sent another text to his lover.  
Johnny snorted. "He better be, he's pinning Punk tonight."  
"Whoa!" Mike scoffed. "This guy is pinning the WWE champion on his first night? I thought I was getting the push!"

As they rounded the corner, Johnny patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. At least, it was supposed to be reassuring. It was probably the least sincere thing Mike had ever been a part of.

"Yep, you're in the spotlight," Johnny replied, obviously tired of hearing criticism. "We've got it worked out. When the shit breaks down outside the ring, you'll get in and give Punk a boot to the jaw, and the kid will pin him."  
Mike tossed the idea around. "That's cool."

They rounded the next corner, and there were Punk, Riley, Jericho, Cena and... Oh, so that's the new kid! What is he, only eighteen? Five foot and four? five? inches tall, can't be more than 160 lbs. Deep red sleeves, but no shirt. Nice tan. Does this kid ever go inside? Wow, that's a mean six pack! Deep red punk denim pants. Red converse shoes. Platinum blonde hair, medium long, cut to one side, covering his left eye. Nice green eyes. And is he wearing makeup and eyeliner? Does this kid have any idea that he's competing as a superstar, not a diva? Although, Mike thought, he'd be very pretty as a diva. He's like a male Maryse! Wait, what did his inner monologue just say?

The boy smiled a shy, slightly crooked smile and extended his slender hand. That was adorable. Wait, what was that I thought?

"I'm Alexi. In ring and out." he said in a delightfully sweet British accent. Despite the confusing mental battle going on in his head, Mike reciprocated.  
"You know me dude, I'm the Miz!" he replied with a tad too much pep to seem nonchalant. "But you can call me Mike. Or the Awesome one."  
Alexi broke eye contact. "Of course I know you, I've been watching you for years!" he said. "But-"

Alexi suddenly got cut off as Cena's music hit, and Cena began doing his entrance. Alexi looked incredibly worried, nervously cracking his fingers. Eventually, Mike had enough. He hated that sound.

"Surely kid, you can find a better way to soothe your nerves." he said lightly, but in a slightly menacing way.  
Alexi exhaled deeply. "I never thought I'd make it here. And now that I have, I'm not sure I'm ready."  
Mike was finding talking to this stud new guy kind of difficult. "You probably aren't," he chuckled. Alexi frowned. Mike mentally kicked himself.  
"Look, Johnny's got a lot of faith in you," Mike added, trying to sweep his last comment discretely under the rug. "Just do what you can, and forget the crowd. If you upset them, who cares, right? You're playing a heel!"

With a not so subtle glare, Jericho passed by the two and his music hit, and he left to make his entrance. Alexi screwed his eyes shut.  
"He hates me, doesn't he?" he muttered.  
Mike relished in the British accent, then remembered to reply, and scoffed. "Everyone hates you this week, man. You main event Raw and you pin the champion." Mike smirked. "Next week it'll be someone else."

Suddenly, new music rang through the building, and Alexi hopped off the table he was sitting on, and began to make his entrance. The music was modern dance music. Was Alexi going to be pushed as an androgynous wrestler? Otherwise, Mike had no idea. Another thing he was confused about was the way that Alexi's natural charm had already begun to affect him like a virus. He instantly liked the kid. Who couldn't? That is, if he hadn't been so abruptly pushed to the main event of Raw.

Mike had been so busy talking in his inner monologue that he nearly missed his cue, and narrowly made it out in time for his music. As for the match, the match played out well. Mike and Chris exchanged frequent tags as Alexi cheered them on from the apron. After surviving a lot of offense from Cena, including a very painful dropkick that connected and made his jaw do that awful cracking sound, Mike hit a mean big boot to the jaw of Riley.  
What came next was standard tag team match protocol, Mike and Chris would continue to land offense on a mainly defenceless opponent in Riley. Eventually, Chris made the tag to Alexi, and this was what everybody was waiting for. Mike was completely shocked, Alexi had been so mild and likeable backstage, but he had turned into a savage aggressor in the ring! Alexi tossed Riley across the ring by his hair, beat his head on the mat, and performed a very impressive Sitout Argentine Backbreaker. It was remarkable that a man that small could lift a man like Riley.

Eventually, Alexi locked in a standard full nelson to Riley. Mike bit his lip. For the final submission before the hot tag, a full nelson would appear very lacklustre. However, Mike, and everybody in attendance, was impressed when Alexi drove his knee into Riley's ribcage, forcing Riley into a sitting position, before seating himself and replacing his arms in the Full Nelson with his legs, into a painful looking Lotus Lock, screaming to the crowd that Riley was his bitch now.  
Even the opposition looked impressed as they continued to rile the crowd before Riley would eventually break the hold and tag in Punk. From there, Alexi sold all of Punk's offense to perfection, until a point where Punk hopped on Alexi's shoulders. Alexi however, was obviously not ready, and buckled under Punk's weight. But to Mike's relief, Alexi angled the fall in a way that draped Punk's throat on the ropes, before rolling him up, letting Punk kick out and continue his offense. That was a fantastic save.

After a GTS from Punk, sold somewhat adequately by Alexi, Miz and Jericho broke the pin, as typical heels do. As per usual, Cena and Riley (who no-sold all the previous offense) would enter the fray and the action would spill out of the ring. Mike threw Riley into the barricade, and it looked like the two in the ring were ready for him to interfere. But Punk was too close to the ropes... Mike hopped up on the rope, and swung a huge boot over the top tope and connected Punk in the side of the head. The crowd booed incredibly loudly, and Punk sold it like a champ.  
Alexi quickly, but still selling Punk's offense, grabbed him by the head and wrapping his arm around Punk's throat. It looked like Alexi was going for a reverse DDT, but instead, the combined effort of Alexi and Punk sent Alexi somersaulting forward, bringing Punk's head onto Alexi's shoulder as Alexi hit the ground in a sitout position, a somersault stunner. That was kind of cool. Alexi covered Punk, and the referee counted to three, and drew the match to a close as the crowd began chanting 'You're a homo!' Alexi didn't seem to care, as he soaked up the heat from the crowd with an air of utter spite and arrogance, like a good heel.

Backstage, Mike had finished getting out of his ring gear, and back into a casual "I'm Awesome" shirt and a pair of denims. Walking outside, he ran into Alexi again, who was having, from the looks of it, a very humourous and interesting chat with Layla and Eve Torres. Wow, he's been making some lady friends quickly. But Eve's a sucker for a good looking guy. Layla loves everybody, and everybody loves Layla, so that's invalid. The conversation ended as Eve left the duo and strutted out of the room.

"Oh, Mike!" Alexi's delicate, British tones rang again through Mike's body, and he felt himself drawn towards the young man.  
"Yeah, mate? Layla." he nodded to acknowledge their companion.  
"Thank you heaps for making my first night so successful," he smiled. He turned to Layla. "I was sooo close to chickening out before the match!"  
Miz grinned and leaned against the wall as Layla began to speak in her own English accent.  
"Ohhh, I hear you Alex," she began, with that pep that everybody expected from her. "First match back, I was at Extreme Rules after rehab for a year! But they gave me the Divas Championship as a present, because they love me."

"Ooooh!" Mike couldn't help himself. "Did you get a Bratz doll with that belt?"  
Layla gave Mike a playful punch in the arm as Alexi quietly laughed.  
"You know I could Layout you any day of the week, Mike!" she teased. "But anyway, we're glad we ran into you, word on the grapevine says you don't have plans tonight."  
Mike raised an eyebrow. "Who told you that? How did they know?"  
Layla shrugged. "I just made that up, but anyway, my new boy toy Alex and Eve, AJ, Kaitlyn, Nick and I were going to do some dancin', a li'l romancin', and we'd absolutely love you to come along with us!" Alexi nodded.

Mike had another internal battle. A night out with Layla was a night never forgotten. The other people she listed were close friends or friendly acquaintances. And he'd love to get to know Alexi some more. But the part of his brain that knew Maryse would be expecting his nightly phone call told him that he really shouldn't. Maryse never approved of him going out, especially with Layla, who had the reputation of being essentially a cupid with a 99% success rate.

"Sorry ladies," he said, with his signature smirk, as Alexi pretended to be offended. "I've gotta rest up, I'm buggered."  
Alexi and Layla sighed in unison.  
"What a letdown, Mike!" Layla exclaimed. "Shame on you!" she shoved his shoulder.  
Alexi extended his hand. "Have a good one anyway, Mike. See you at the next house show!"  
Mike shook Alexi's hand, and gave Layla the hug she demanded, and waved as he trekked towards his ride.  
"Night guys, enjoy your romancin'!" he said as he left, in a British accent to tease the others, and listened in glee to their mocking laughter.

Back at his hotel room, Mike felt lonely and deeply regretted not going out. He felt bitter as he imagined his friends enjoying night life, and he was stuck here, waiting for Maryse to maybe answer his call, depending on whether she felt like playing hard to get, or not. After ringing Maryse's cell, other cell and her home phone several times for two hours and getting no response, Mike had finally had enough and threw his cell at the wall in a rage. He hopped in the substandard shower, and began to soap and wash his body, letting the steaming hot water burn off the sour loneliness and rejection stemming from his distant and very rocky relationship with Maryse.

When Mike began to wash his intimate area, he, like any man, began to get aroused. Hey, why not? It's not like anybody's around to bust me. They're all our having fun. Miz began to fondle his steadily growing erection, before slowly beginning to jerk it, leaning against the cool masonry of the shower wall. He imagined Maryse as he slowly jerked himself off, gently moaning to himself as he imagined her gorgeous body. The things they'd done together, everything ran back into his mind as he sped himself up. Then he remembered he was angry with Maryse, and his thoughts drifted to Layla... and ... and Eve... mmmmm... Eve had a great body... mm.. faster...  
Mike was going full speed at the thought of Layla, Eve, Layla, Eve, Alexi and his gorgeous accent and pretty face and sexy abs. Suddenly, Mike exhaled deeply as his eyes rolled back, and he shot a full load that painted the glass door of the shower.

After he gathered his wits again, he felt ... wrong. Did he seriously just cum to the thought of Alexi? Mike felt disturbed. He was straight! He always liked women. He's dated that bitch Maryse for a long time so ... what was that? Mike was worried. This wasn't right. He was shaking as he curled up under the covers of his bed. Would he be able to look Alexi, or for that matter, Maryse, in the eye again?


	2. Alexi

_Thanks for reading thus far._  
_Since this chapter is focused around Alexi rather than the Miz, it took a lot to work out how much to reveal, what his strengths and weaknesses are, etc._  
_No smexx in this chapter, purely story building._  
_Hope reviews are left, criticism helps people to learn. =]_

CHAPTER 2 - ALEXI

Alexi sighed in disappointment as he awoke from his dreams into the land of reality. His hotel room was small, it smelt like the last people here had slightly too much to drink, and the night before, he had to flip his pillow because there was an odd stain that looked like rancid mustard. It was here. Sunday the 20th of May, the day he would make his pay per view debut, albeit in a non-wrestling role, Extreme Rules.

He slowly rolled out of his creaky queen sized bed. A large bed was probably the highlight of the substandard room he was caged in, but since he was so small and preferred to curl up in the corner, that was hardly much use. He staggered sleepily into the bathroom - or the part of the room that was designed to be the bathroom. This certainly was a single, because the toilet didn't even have its own private cubicle.

He looked at the mirror and smirked to his reflection. Man, that was some epic bed head. He still had all the makeup on from last night's clubbing with Kofi and AJ, being too tired to shower and gone immediately to bed. The eyeliner had smudged and gone smoky in his sleep. He placed his elbows on the counter and stared blankly into the mirror, remembering the events that had taken hold in the last month.

One month ago, he had been called up to FCW after eight months of working local shows back in Leeds. Much to the shock of his family and friends, and the obvious jealousy from his fellow wrestlers, WWE representatives had been looking for someone who used innovative and somewhat unorthodox wrestling, something Alexi had always prided himself on.

So off he went to America. To train at FCW, hopefully to be called up to the main roster. After four weeks and wrestling one match, he indeed had been called up to the main roster. It was difficult quitting the job at Supre that he had only just received to support himself (a secret he kept from everybody who worked with him at FCW) but honestly, he was over the moon.

Three weeks ago, he had been set to main event Raw immediately. And that's exactly what he did, teaming with established veterans, The Miz and Chris Jericho, to combat the WWE Champion CM Punk, Alex Riley and the face of WWE, John Cena. Alexi had been booked strongly, using a distraction from the Mike to pick up the victory over Punk with a Somersault Stunner.

Alexi began to chew on the longest part of his fringe that hung over his left eye, a bad habit of his, as he continued to reminisce. Man, the last few weeks sure have been a blast, no doubt, but it's been so demanding and exhausting. The loose diet he had went right out the window and finding time to eat was now near the bottom of the totem pole - at least, to WWE. Alexi loved his food.

Sometimes, it feels like the strenuous lifestyle is too much. He's tired... a lot. He's still overcoming anxiety from performing in front of huge crowds. And as much as he's thrilled that Creative has been trying to push him off to a red hot start in his career, he really is only a baby wrestler. Alexi had started training to be a wrestler at the age of seventeen, and he had only just hit nineteen now.

His last three matches have been acceptable, but sloppy on average. The following Raw after his debut, Alexi and Mike Mizanin teamed up to face Punk again, with Santino as his partner. Alexi and Santino performed incredibly well, but Alexi wasn't ready when Santino performed a running crossbody which was supposed to be countered into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, and the pair stumbled out of the ring.

At the WWE Superstars tapings, Alexi faced Alex Riley in a singles match, and was booked to win. Alexi and Riley didn't perform a masterpiece, but as far as hitting all spots well without any major botches, it was good. Alexi pinned Riley with a variation of his Somersault Stunner to Riley as a reversal to the Back Suplex Side Slam.

And last week, he faced Punk in a singles match with the Mike in his corner, which was the final segment to build up Mike and Punk before they faced off at Extreme Rules. It should have been the main event, but management's obsession with Cena prevented that. Halfway through the match, Alexi felt overwhelmed and lost, and Punk had to take control of the match. However, it eventually became a success, with Punk reversing the Somersault Stunner by dropping Alexi on his butt and performing a GTS before Mike attacked Punk immediately after.

How was Mike, by the way, Alexi wondered. He hadn't seen Mike since the live show they both performed at three days ago. He'd made some good friends already, lovely Layla, most notably. And he'd become really close with Kaitlyn, AJ and Nick Nemeth. He also had an instant rapport with the Mike, the man who carried his nerves through his first night at Raw, although Mike didn't spend a lot of time doing much but wrestling and fighting with Maryse over the phone. People said Maryse was a brilliant woman, but the only impression she gave Alexi was one of a total prima donna.

Alexi was jerked out of his flashbacks by a loud banging on the door.

"C'mon kid, buses leave in twenty." came a gruff voice.

"Gotcha. Thank you!" Alexi replied deceptively sweetly, with a face that looked like he'd sucked a lemon.

As the footsteps marched away, Alexi considered not taking a shower. Lazy. Tired. Mehhh. But his motivation won out and he stripped off his boxer shorts and got in the small shower cubicle. The floor was wet... the showerhead was leaking. Alexi turned on the water, and got shot in the eye by a leak in the metal. Rubbing off his eyeliner the lazy way and massaging his scalp under the thankfully satisfactory water temperature and pressure, he read a small notice on the wall of the cubicle about short showers saving water. Hah, that's rich.

After finishing up, he quickly dried himself and put on some briefs. Although he was totally alone, had a rocking hot body and behind a locked door and high rise window, Alexi hated to be naked. After drying his hair with the complimentary blow dryer, he began to straighten his slightly wavy platinum locks, and picked out a simple yet presentable outfit of a short sleeve charvet shirt covered with a slim fit black vest, slim fit black jeans and his black hi-tops.

To top it off, he picked out a pair of black fingerless gloves with cute white skulls on them. He knew AJ loved accessories and clothes like this, and there was no way it wouldn't put her in a good mood during the bus trip. Checking his phone, he had seven minutes to get to the lobby, no rush. He found a text from Layla, received at 4:40 AM. Did that girl ever need to sleep? We'll never know.  
**shotgun sitting next 2 u on the bus 2moro! muuaaahhhzzz!**

Alexi audibly laughed as he pocketed his phone and wheeled his luggage out of the room. Down the cold and honestly uninviting hallway, around the corner, and the lift has a sign saying OUT OF ORDER. Despite it being an inanimate object, Alexi decided to flip it off before taking the stairs, slowly with his suitcase on wheels, flinching with every massive BANG it made on each step. Right... one flight down, eleven more to go. Sucks to be Kofi on the nineteenth floor.

The eighth floor door to the stairs burst open, and Sheamus charged right out, saw Alexi, and gave a quick but polite nod, before picking up his suitcase and charging down the stairs. Alexi grinned, and wondered if anybody would accidentally step in front of Sheamus and get cleared out, before continuing his trek. Alexi reached the lobby and found it empty. Confused and somewhat worried, he scanned the three exits to the room, until Tyler Reks poked his head around the corner of the wooden doorframe of the exit to the south.

"Out here, man." Tyler called and beckoned.  
Alexi laughed nervously. "Gratitude Gabe." he replied gratefully, and wheeled his bursting at the seams suitcase out of the exit and into the parking lot where the bus was waiting, and several WWE employees were getting ready for the trip. Alexi mentally slapped himself, if only he were paying attention to Johnny Ace's instructions when they got here yesterday, but dang it, that man is such a bore and sounds like nails on a board.

Smiling and giving polite and somewhat insincere greetings to everyone, he stuffed his luggage in the storage compartment under the bus, and leant against it, resting his head on his forearm. It's ok, he could sleep on the bus, providing that he wasn't sitting too close to JTG, who has a reputation for playing pranks on those who snooze on the trips. Suddenly, a hand squeezed his left buttock, making him jump in shock, and quickly turn around to confront whoever it was, but Nattie's cheeky grin was what greeted him.

"Lexi!" she cheerfully greeted him with her arms open. How in hell Nattie could be a bucket full of bloody rainbows every damn day was a mystery.  
"Nattie!" he replied, just as cheerfully, before leaping into her arms for their regular embrace, wrapping his legs around her solid body, like a romance movie but with roles reversed. That Nattie, she never buckled under his weight for a second.

Nattie plonked Alexi somewhat unceremoniously back on his feet, before ruffling the hair he'd worked so hard to fix.  
"How's my big man, all ready for his big night?" she asked, full of sunshine, lollipops and rainbows, that Nattie grin a permanent fixture on her face.

"No." Alexi replied, joking but sort of not really. Already the nerves were intense, but he was truly excited.

Nattie laughed again. "You'll be fine, big man," she said. In a way, Nattie had become like his supportive big sister. It was also amusing to others that she called him 'big man', because she was roughly an inch taller than him. "You don't have to do Undertaker and Shawn Michaels, you just have to run in and stir the pot, word on the old grapevine says."

"You make it sound so basic!" Alexi retorted playfully. "How do I know they're not going to make me lose a year's worth of matches, do the can-can and flatuate?" He teased, poking fun at the things Natalya had been made to do in recent times, all things she did quite happily, mind you.

Nattie chuckled and ruffled his hair again. "Then you might learn to stop running that mouth of yours!" Alexi smiled that lopsided smile of his.  
Nattie stood next to him and looked around. "So who are you waiting for?"

"Layla." Alexi replied, looking at his phone. "But she's probably still half naked and trying to discreetly walk a man out of the hotel before Ace catches her."  
Nattie whistled. "This kitty has claws!" she laughed. "I bet she'll be shoving him out the exit, wearing her bed sheet!"

She patted him on the shoulder. "Tyson's coming, I'll catch you later, big man."

"Bye-bye, Big Nattie!" Alexi replied, before quickly texting a message to Layla.  
**omg get dressed and get out here u tart, im lonely and its awkward lol x**

Before long, Alexi heard banging on the window above him on the bus. He turned around and shielded his eyes from the harsh rays of the early sun, and tried to see who it was. His phone buzzed and he read the message.  
From Layla: **bet u feel silly now lol come sit next to me you slut ;)**  
Alexi grinned and quickly ascended the steps, nodding to the driver, who was casually reading the newspaper and slowly eating a Danish, chewing with his mouth open.

Layla sat two thirds of the way to the back, in a gorgeous low cut top that advertised her lovelies without sending the message that she was a tramp. If there was one person who could be subtle about looking tarty, it sure was Layla. Strolling past Reks and McGillicutty, already seated with their earphones in, Alexi swung around into Layla's seat, and gave her a side hug.

"How are you, sweetheart?" She asked with a lot of pep. Was Alexi the only person who wasn't ecstatic this morning?

"I'm tired and sore," Alexi complained, putting on his best 'victim' face. "The bed was nasty."

Layla nodded. "You've been spoiled for far too long with beds designed for PEOPLE!"  
Alexi giggled. "What, you've been on tour for about as long as I have!"

"Well yeah," Layla replied. "But for the year I was off, I was in excruciating pain!" The way she emphasized her words was nothing short of adorable.  
"So anyway," she continued. "I like your getup!"

Before Alexi could thank her for her compliment, Layla continued. "You look like an adorable eighth grader going to his first ever dance!"  
Percy Watson always seemed to smell like body odour and cheap deodorant, noted Alexi, as Watson strolled past them.  
"And you," Alexi quickly scanned his mind for something witty. "Look like a trampy eighth grader going on her third date."

Layla poked her tongue out. Alexi poked his out too, and the pair giggled together. Suddenly, Mike Mizanin swung into the seat in front of Layla and Alexi and buckled himself in.

"Mike!" greeted Alexi.  
"Mikey poo!" Layla couldn't help herself with her words. It's like they controlled her. "How are you, sweet pea?"

Mike didn't sound too good. "Doing alright, Lay, yourself? You Al?"

Alexi didn't have to answer.  
"We're just gorgeous as always, Mikey, but how are you really?" Layla quickly answered for the both of them.

Mike slumped against the window, head against his hand, with his eyes closed.  
"Didn't sleep much, was arguing with Maryse all night."

Alexi internally rolled his eyes. That's all the pair ever does. Fight, sulk, and have what is probably epic sex.  
"Ohh you poor baby," Layla cooed. "LayLay and Alex are here for you, you can catch up on your beauty sleep now, we'll just turn our volume down."

Mike did manage a faint smile. "I'll need the freaking mute button."  
Layla rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, and sat back with Alexi. Mike put his headphones in.

Layla did sound concerned. "Maryse is a brilliant girl, of course, but she is honestly such a bitch to poor Mikey."  
Alexi internally rolled his eyes again. Gee, Layla, you don't say? He reached over and gently patted Mike's hair.  
"Stop that Lay." Mike mumbled. Alexi grinned, and the driver started up the engine.

"Oh MsLayel," Alexi said quietly, calling Layla by her twitter name, which he sometimes did. "I wish I had someone to call me at unreasonable hours in the morning and bitch and fight with about nothing every night."  
Layla shrugged. "Or you can go partying with the gang, hook up with incredibly good looking people and lose out on your sleep that way instead."

Well. She does have a point.  
The bus suddenly began moving forward. On to Raleigh, North Carolina!  
Alexi rested his head on Layla's shoulder, and she used her other hand to stoke his hair.  
"You're such a baby." she teased, before putting her arm around him and letting him get comfy on her shoulder.

His mind drifted from topic to topic. From thinking about what new move he could bust out next time he was in a match, to thinking about how his next promo would go, to thinking about his future being paired with Mike, to wondering if he'd ever get really drunk and sleep with Layla, and finally it served as a segue for him to think about his family. Would they accept Layla as his lover? Most certainly. She's a successful athlete and not to mention, she's British as well. But the thing that mattered most to them would be that's she's female.

Alexi let out a somewhat sad sigh. He nuzzled closer into Layla's shoulder. Layla cooed, and Alexi felt comforted. Why, oh why, must I be so clingy? Perhaps it's safer to be alone. Alexi's phone buzzed, snapping him right out of his thoughts. He fished it out of his pocket. Kaitlyn had finally sent back a drawing on Draw Something. ... what the hell is that?

"Lay?" he asked, showing Layla the picture of a ... thing.

Layla squinted.  
"Is that a vagina?"  
Alexi giggled. "It may as well be." He leaned over the seat in front of him, and lightly tapped Mike's shoulder. Mike took out an earphone.

"Mike," Alexi said. "Check out Kaitlyn's drawing of a twat."  
Mike laughed. "It's a clam, you dick."  
Alexi turned his iphone on the side. Oh, NOW I see it!

"Bollocks." he said in disbelief, and typed it in, patting Mike on the shoulder, Mike chuckling to himself.  
"No," said Layla, as he was busy drawing a lasso. "I'm certain that was a nude drawing of a vagina! Clam my arse!"

A loud, condescending laugh erupted a few seats back. It belonged to Chris Jericho.  
"Please," Jericho mocked. "As if that pretty little transvestite knows that a pussy looks like. Unless he looked in a mirror."

Before Alexi could reply, a bunch of voices piped up all at once. Alexi kept up his expression of disbelief, but in reality, he was feeling nothing but smug satisfaction.  
The adorable Alicia Fox, the quiet Primo and the obviously tired Tyler Reks weren't in the mood to listen to Jericho try to bully another person because he felt robbed of his spotlight, and told him to lay off the new kid.  
Layla retorted with "You showered with boys in high school gym, he baked cakes with girls, now go figure!"  
But the most surprising reaction was Mike's.

Mike swung around and leaned over the back of his seat, towering over the mini-pair that comprised of Layla and Alexi. His face looked nothing short of furious, and his voice was oozing with contempt.  
"Jericho," Mike snarled. "I don't know what your problem is, but if you ever say shit like that about my friend in my presence again, I'll take you down in a real last man standing match, you hear me?"

Alexi smiled. It was nice to know that despite being on the outside of the inner clique the wrestlers had all formed together, they obviously liked him enough to stand up for him. He was aware that, although not directly his fault, he got on the rough side of many wrestlers when he was booked so strongly upon his debut, but it almost felt like Mike didn't want anything to do with him at all - to have Mike so viciously, and so passionately, defend his honour was something that truly touched Alexi's heart.

Chris however, took a different approach to the situation.  
"Oh I see, sticking up for your new bitch because you can't keep your old one on a leash." Chris said, cruelly. "I bet that's why you're never around with the groups anymore; you're busy at the room wanking over your pretty new boy toy!"

Although nobody knew it, that was partially true. And the look on pure regret on Chris' face let everybody spectating know that he was aware he had gone too far - much too far. Mike leaned further and grabbed Chris by the scruff of his shirt. "You fucking-"  
"Hey!" cried Layla, and Alexi grabbed Mike's arm and pulled him away from Chris, Mike's face dark with rage.

"That's enough, boys!" came the voice from the Glamazon, Beth Phoenix, ex-divas champion and the unofficial troop leader of the current bus.  
"Do I have to separate you two?" she warned, her words structured like a joke, but the message was clear, and her face backing it up, before she sat down again, playing cards with Nattie, Tyson and Justin Gabriel.

Jericho derisively laughed, and Mike sat down again, slumping down against the window, obviously hurt, somewhat embarrassed after losing his cool. Layla made a comical face appropriate to the outburst, making the close company chuckle lightly, and Alexi's eyes met with Chris Jericho's. Chris didn't quite understand the somewhat blank stare coming from Alexi, but it sent chills down his spine. Jericho flipped him off and glared, making sure Alexi knew that the business between them wasn't over.

"Thank you Mike, you're a great guy."  
Mike bit his lip as his heart began to beat faster and his crotch stirred. Alexi wasn't aware of it, but Mike was slowly becoming obsessed with him. His gorgeous accent, his sweeter than candy attitude, his quirky and funny personality, his gorgeous, feminine looks... gah. Maryse was becoming an afterthought. And it's like she knew it. Mike began to silently cry. Layla noticed this, and reached through and rubbed his shoulder. She hoped that the next week would run a lot more smoothly.

But it's the WWE. Anything can happen in the WWE.


	3. Layla

_Thanks for bearing with me. Please R/R, gives me incentive =]_  
_Criticism is criticism. Also, things may be getting more lemony._

CHAPTER 3 - LAYLA

We have big things planned for you, they said. You're going to be the face of the division, they said. We're extremely happy to have you back, they said. Layla was in a foul mood as she sat back in a cheap folding chair in the corner of catering, pretending to be interested in Jake Hager's overhyped and obviously exaggerated sex life, her ring gear in her bag next her, going unused. For a change. She was sick of the catering rooms. This one was larger than most, but it was no more inviting.

She had been ecstatic to be back. Everybody seemed to have genuinely missed her, and she honestly missed everybody else. Out in instinct, possibly brought on by the nostalgic moment, she began to rub her right knee. Though it didn't hurt so much, and the brace was mainly for show, it had been the most gruelling year of her life, dealing with that darned injury.

**The sad thing is,** she thought to herself,** I'll probably never be able to prove to everyone what I can really do. I worked my butt off so I could be here for this company, and all I get to do is sit here and help make coffee for Johnny Ace. It must take a lot of effort to invest all of Raw's time into long, boring sequences and stories that nobody cared about. Time that we could use to make people proud of us. I want to show everybody the Layla I would want to watch. Not everybody's little honeybun with her Barbie strap.**

"You listening, Lay?" asked Jake, halfway through a graphic mime of what probably didn't happen with this college chick from the bar last night. Layla grinned and patted him on the shoulder. **So is this really what we're being reduced to? Being brought to every live event in hopes that we'll even walk by in a backstage segment, just anything to get ourselves on television? Am I to be forever promised time on television, but to be kicked aside for another four minutes of John Cena's banter? I should quit. I could be a great pole dancer.**

Jake roughly shoved her again. "Come on, this is the best bit!" he whined.

Layla smiled. Jake really was that horny fifteen year old desperately craving attention.  
"Catch me up soon, Jakey boy; I've got a few errands to run." She turned to leave.

Jake looked hurt.  
"What could you possibly have to do? This is Raw and you're only a diva." he said.

Layla swung back around, real frustration showing in her usually calm and playful eyes. She unclenched her fists.  
"Jakey boy, you should really respect your youthful looking elders," she told him. "Now granted, the WWE board is managed by sexist, misogynistic shits, which means I can't entertain my fans. You get every opportunity in the world you need to succeed, and yet your title runs have the same amount of momentum that mine has! The difference being that some people actually cared about my match with the Glamazon at Extreme Rules."

She stepped closer to him. Jake had a pout on his face. That stupid face. That stupid Jake. Jake just annoys people. That's what he does.  
"I don't recall anybody really getting behind you at all," she continued, surprised by how cruel she could be. "Do you? I mean, I'm a diva. I have a handicap on me that extends to the moon and back, but even with that, I've made history and I've entertained fans for years alongside 'Chelle as LayCool. When was the last time you ever did anything memorable, having management in your back pocket?

Jake mumbled a bunch of automatic pride defence related insults to Layla.  
"Must be her time of the month." he muttered, his face gone completely red.

Layla reached up, very high, and mussed his hair.  
"You got it Jakey. I'm on those precious few days a month where I'm sweeter than candy, not just a complete bitch." before swinging on her heel and walking away. The duo of Victoria Crawford and a camera man giggled to each other.  
"Boy, you just got out-foxed!" a peppy Victoria called out to a very embarrassed Jake, (oh yes, she does it out of the ring, too) as Layla grinned to herself. Bitchiness assuaged. Awesome.

Layla picked up a large plum from the platter, and put the whole thing in her mouth.** Being a lady can wait, I'm underutilised and sad.** Once she began chewing, it became all too clear that she had underestimated the sheer mass of her commitment. Plum juice and chewed up plum mulch was everywhere. This was going to take some time.

"Hey LayLay!" rang a not quite pleasant, but somewhat soothing voice from behind, startling her.

**Ahhhhhhhhhh shit.**

"You okay?" asked the voice. Nick. That's Nick. It's ok, he'll understand, he's seen you in less dignified scenarios and with more embarrassing things in your mouth.

Layla turned out, her hand covering her mouth, trying desperately to chew the massive fruit whilst avoiding her tongue and the giant seed.

"Hah-haha... are... hahahaha... you ah... doing ok?" he chuckled as she mumbled a reply and signalled she'd be ready to talk in just a minute. Nick Nemeth was shining with a mixture of sweat and oil, having just come back from a match with Snowman Sheamus, and smelled like a rich men's changing room. Nick always smelled like some sort of body spray, but at least he had good taste in it.

She eventually swallowed, and plucked the plum seed from her lips.  
"I'm sexy, dammit." she demanded in good humour as she tossed the seed a good twelve feet, raising her hands in the air as it landed in the trash can. Good measuring too, another foot and that miserable pest Chris Jericho would not have been happy.

"So," Nick said, pulling Layla into a small half-hug. "I see you still love huge things in your mouth. Reminiscing?" he winked at her.  
Layla elbowed him gently in the ribs.  
"Now don't get carried away with the self-flattery, hash tag heel!" she replied with mock offense. "Everyone knows that's LayCool's job."

"So Lay, tell me all the goss!"  
Nick truly was a gossip whore. Could you tell? And Layla was always full of it.

"Well, I hear Randy's having marital troubles, his wife isn't taking the suspension very well because of... you know." Layla animated her face. "The Wellness Policy."  
Nick nodded.  
"Oh, and you should have seen that prank Ron Killings and Davey Otunga played on Aksana. Dressed up like clowns and shook her awake, the poor thing. I heard the shrieks from my room down the hall!"

Nick and Layla huddled closer.  
"So, how's Mikey doing?" Nick asked, quietly and solemnly.

Layla tutted.  
"Really not well, I'm afraid," she sighed. "Mikey tells her that he's looking to end their relationship, and she tells him she's pregnant. Nobody knows if it's true or not but in Mikey's situation, it doesn't look like he has a lot of alternatives for the next week."

Nick and Layla watched the new camera man drop the camera stand with an awful clutter. Nick turned back to Layla and bit his lip.  
"Poor bro. Is he coming out tonight?"

Oh, tonight will be fun.  
"I don't care if he has to pay a kidnapper's ransom for that girlfriend of his," Layla replied. "Tonight, he's coming out with the crew, and he's going to have the first good time he's had in weeks!"

"Who's coming?" asked Nick, picking his tooth. Gross.  
"The crew!" Layla replied. "Our glorious selves, of course, then our beloved AJ and Kaitlyn, my gorgeous Lexipie, and Mikey will be coming whether he wants to or not. We also have an undecided Broski, apparently there's something great on pay per view involving badgers."

"Lol." said Nick. "Sounds great, I'll go get changed, see you soon LayLay." He patted her on the butt and left.

"Don't say 'Lol' in conversation, Nicky!" she called after him. "It makes you sound like a douche!"  
She laughed as he cockily flipped her off over his shoulder.

She hoisted herself up and sat on the table. Raw had ended about four minutes ago, but she occasionally liked to stay behind and chat with everyone else who had been screwed over by Vince, Johnny and the booking team. Lately, there were a lot of them.

"Have a good night, Lay?" asked that sleazy voice. If only he weren't her boss... she could put him in his place.

"Oh, it was superb!" Layla replied, full of insincere cheer. "It wasn't easy, but I managed to warm every seat backstage with my cute little tush all night. I know how hard and exhausting it is to talk crap on television for twenty minutes. I didn't even need to bring my Divas Championship or my ring gear! Funny that."

Johnny sniggered.  
"Raw's full, you know that," he replied. "But I can make it up to you. I have a special seat your cute little tush can warm all it wants."

Layla looked up in shock, only to be met with a creepy, lustful gaze. Holy crap. He was serious.

Layla gave her biggest grin. "Thaaaaat's ok." she replied, trying not to insult the boss who would not hesitate to fire that cute little tush of hers, but make it painfully clear that she was not willing to get on his good side THAT way. She didn't want to get on ANY of his sides in THAT way.

Mike truly was a mess. What a horrible few days he's had. Layla didn't exactly know the whole story about his rocky relationship, and had no idea of the feelings Mike was slowly developing for a completely oblivious Alexi, but she couldn't just let him suffer alone.

"Mikey, you know you need to have some fun." Layla sternly lectured him.

Mike shook his head.  
"Maryse would kill me." he replied quietly, his voice cracking.

"Maryse doesn't need to know," Layla replied. "I don't think you're going to take your clothes off and dance on a table for the press! Come out, have some drinks, embrace the beats, and party a little, have some fun. We're all really worried about you Mikey, and we miss you."

Mike nodded, and Layla rubbed his back.  
"You made the right choice, sweetie," she said gently. "We'll take care of you. Everything's going to be fine."

The Velvet Room. Thank you Twitter fans for making this suggestion, this place was the bomb! Considering that tomorrow was a day off for a large number of superstars and divas, just about all of them had gone out to unwind. This was no exception for Layla and her troop. Sitting in a V.I.P. booth, Layla was in her usual clubbing attire, a classy yet revealing tank top with her short shorts, and her favourite Jimmy Choo heels. Her face was beautifully adorned with subtle makeup, done by none other than her talented right hand man.

Next to Layla, as usual, was her right hand man, Alexi. Alexi's dress sense was far less expensive than his female counterpart, but no less impressive. A skin-tight white tank top, midnight black skinny jeans and black and white hi-tops. Layla swore she could actually make out pectoral definition through the fabric. Layla frequently teased him for being the walking advertisement for Hot Topic. But he really is a cutie, thought Layla. I could totally be his cougar if he would only bat for my team. Bloody poof. What a loss for womankind! Ah, I love him to pieces.

Alexi was barely able to contain his excitement. The energy and spirit of this young man was truly beautiful. His especially spiked platinum hair, save for the bit that always covered the left of his captivating green eyes, comically stuck in place despite his mini-bouncing. Layla was jealous of his eyeliner; it always looked that small margin better than hers did.

"You know, mister, they're not going to let you drink in here." she reminded him.

Alexi blew his fringe away.  
"Drinking be damned!" he chattered, holding up his hand with the purple stamp that was given to underage youths. "Let's go hit the dance floor!"  
He nudged Kaitlyn on his other side as he said it, a recall to her previous entrance theme. She nudged him back.  
"AJ and I are getting cocktails, you want one?" she yelled over the beat of the generic party music.

Alexi held up the hand with the purple stamp again. Kaitlyn nodded and left with AJ, Nick in sudden pursuit. That left Layla, Alexi and Mike huddled together in the booth.  
"You wanna come and dance with us, Mikey?" asked Layla. "We promise to defend you from the army of autograph wanters."

Alexi laughed and grabbed Mike by the wrist, but Mike wrenched free and stayed put.  
"I'll stay here for a bit," yelled Mike. "Dancing isn't really my thing."

Layla looked disappointed.  
"I'll be fine!" Mike grinned.

Alexi turned to Layla.  
"You go and dirty dance with your man candy," he said, not knowing that his thick Yorkshire accent was secretly stimulating Mike's sexual organs. "I'll stay with Mikey."  
Layla pecked him on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd of dancing men and women. Layla would probably be a party animal her whole life until six months after death.

Alexi sat down again next to Mike. Mike looked at him and smiled.  
"Don't waste the night on me, Al, go and party with Lay." Mike ordered.

The blonde grinned.  
"I have many years of partying left that she doesn't," he smirked. "Plus, all dance and no drink makes Alexi a dull boy."

"Thanks bud," Mike patted Alexi on the shoulder. "I appreciate it. It's been a rough few weeks."  
Alexi's smile faded. "Do you-"

He got cut off by the spritely return of AJ, carrying three brightly coloured cocktails, one green, one orange and one yellow, placing them on a table and sliding one to both Alexi and Mike. These glasses were huge! They must hold at least a pint and a half. Ooh, the straws were the umbrellas. Neat.  
"Umbrellas are totally fun." she remarked as she slurped her bright yellow cocktail.

"I can't drink this, remember?" Alexi said sadly, raising his hand yet again. Damn American drinking laws and damn whoever thought of them.  
AJ rolled her eyes.  
"Dude, it's cool, they're non-alcoholic." AJ replied, immediately going back to her cocktail.

Alexi took a sip through the green umbrella-straw to the cocktail, and spluttered.  
"This has to be the most alcoholic cocktail I've ever tasted!" Alexi exclaimed.

"HAH! Huge fine for British boy, a minor drinking alcohol, jail time for you." AJ laughed. "Give it to Mikey th- oooookay."

She was referring to the fact that Mike had already gone through his green coloured delight and tossed the straw on the floor. Alexi and AJ giggled, and Alexi slide his orange cocktail over to Mike, who snatched it, and drank the lot without pause.  
"Whoa dude, that's an effort." AJ said, impressed. "You can finish mine, too, alcohol doesn't favour the three foot tall." She passed it over to Mike and got up.

"I'll be getting trampled in the mosh pit, text me when we're moving on." AJ pointed at her eyes, then to Alexi's, before scuttling in to the dancing crowd.

Mike and Alexi sat there in silence, at one point, waving to Zack Ryder, who apparently did decide to appear after all, with a busty babe hanging off his shoulder. Music continued to pump loudly through the chorus of cheering, whooping and laughter of the crowd. Bright purple neon lights highlighted the walls, and people were everywhere. Alexi swayed slowly with the infectious beat.

"So how are things, Mikey?" asked Alexi, nervously. Not everyone had been given a warm reception by Mike on this topic.

Mike nodded. "Yeahhhh... been better, been better. Love man, it's a bitch."  
Alexi put his hand on Mike's shoulder. Did AJ put something in those cocktails? They were far too potent to be legal, in any country. There's no way they were served like that. Lucky AJ had let up halfway through hers, or she'd be off her tits by now.

"Want to take a walk, Mike?" Alexi offered. "Bit of fresh air?"

Mike nodded, and pulled himself up, before grabbing Alexi by the hand and pulling him up too. Anyone watching would have thought that was strangely intimate for a supposedly straight guy, but everybody's enjoying dancing next to the Divas Champion Layla. Honestly, she was a massive hit at clubs, not only because she was a gorgeous superstar and a lovable woman, but she was an epic dancer. Mike and Alexi waved to her, but she was too busy dirty dancing with a dark skinned man who must have been doing cardio since before he was born.

Mike and Alexi exited outside into the cool night air, Mike obviously a bit tipsy. Mike looked really nice tonight. A cute navy blue formal shirt underneath a trendy black cardigan. There was nobody else in the world that could make a cardigan look cool. A pair of his favourite designer jeans and black converse shoes. He looked like a buff little drunken freshman. They ambled slowly down the road, giggling about immature things. What Tyson Kidd gets up to alone, what Barbie Blank and Lucky Cannon did in the janitor's closet.

"Y'know," Mike said suddenly. "You look so much like Maryse."  
Mike's cheerful grin had suddenly become entirely solemn.  
"I don't know why I don't just date you, Al, it'd be so much easier."

Alexi was obviously uncomfortable.  
"Oh well... thank you - er, Mike," he replied slowly. He rubbed Mike's back. "But you love Maryse, and I'm sure she loves you."  
He continued talking, despite Mike's insistent head shakes.  
"So stop talking bollocks, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're a super special catch, Mikey, and you can't forget that just because she's being manipulative."

They turned a corner into a dark, narrow alley, and Mike leaned against the wall. Ergh, gross. Litter, graffiti, grime, why not step into a clich slum movie?  
"You're right, Al," Mike sighed. "That bitch can go fuck herself." He looked at Alexi, who was clearly suspicious at the sudden switch of allegiance.

Mike decided to take his chances and suddenly grabbed Alexi and forced him up into a deep, passionate kiss. Alexi let out a muffled yelp of surprise when Mike's alcoholic-fruit flavoured tongue invaded his mouth and wrestled with his own. He put his hands on Mike's chest to push himself away, but Mike's grip, albeit gentle and affectionate, was firm and didn't allow much chance of escape. Alexi then felt his will to fight fade, and eventually relaxed into Mike's forceful cradling grip, responding with his own tongue, playing around with Mike's.

His neck beginning to hurt with the awkward angle at which he had to kiss Alexi due to the several inches of height difference, Mike hoisted Alexi up and spun the pair around, so that Alexi's back was pinned against the cold brick wall. Alexi hooked his legs comfortably around Mike's hips and draped his arms around Mike's neck, before the passionate kissing resumed. The distant music of the Velvet Room was still ringing through the cold night air, providing a sweet background noise to the sound of quiet kissing and gentle moans.

This is wrong, thought Alexi as Mike began to slowly grind his crotch into his own.** Is he... drunk, is he... using me as a substitute for Maryse... or is-** Alexi's thought process was broken when Mike finally broke his mouth free of Alexi's and began to gently bite and suckle at the tender spot where his clavicle met his neck. Alexi mewled in ecstasy and buried his face in Mike's shoulder, breathing heavily. Regardless, it was nice to feel like he mattered during a hook-up for a change. The affairs with random men from bars were physically satisfactory, but there can only be so many 'root and boots'.

Mike's grinding began to intensify. It felt amazing to have Mike aggressively grind against him, pinning him to the wall. **I better speed this up**, thought Alexi, **before someone catches us.** He bit lightly at Mike's ear.  
"Let me down." he whispered. Mike's embrace suddenly got tighter, then Alexi was allowed to spring down onto the ground again, his tank top getting caught on the rough wall and tearing a little. Bugger.  
"M'sorry." mumbled Mike, his hand fondling Alexi's cheek.

Alexi spun them around and pushed Mike against the wall, standing up as tall as he could on his tiptoes to reach Mike's mouth, passionately kissing Mike's alcohol-lips. He then knelt down. Mike closed his eyes and his head tilted back to relax against the wall. He needed this. Alexi continued to massage Mike's crotch from the outside as he unzipped Mike's designer jeans, and rummaged through until he found the brim of Mike's boxers, pulling them down and eventually Mike's eight inch cock sprung free from the confines it faces every time Mike even thought of Alexi. It was so beautiful... and so thick.

Although Alexi had no idea why he had been dragged into this random public sexcapade, the overwhelming lust had completely taken hold by now, as he slowly stroked the warm, precum slicked and steel hard uncut cock in front of him. Alexi wasted no time putting the spongy head between his lips and ran his tongue all around the sensitive tip, his mouth flooded with the sweet and heady taste of Mike's pre-excitement. Mike let out a particularly loud moan, and put his hand on Alexi's platinum spikes, massaging his head as Alexi gently suckled and licked the first couple of inches of his organ.

Mike put his hand on the back of Alexi's head and began to force Alexi down. Alexi complied, slowly taking in inch by inch, his jaw open wide to accommodate what Mike was packing, his tongue never failing to play with and stimulate the sensitive underside. Alexi swallowed as Mike's cock went down his throat, making Mike quiver and moan out loud. Alexi moaned lightly himself, sending vibrations from his throat all around Mike, and drew back to the cockhead to lavish the super sensitive spot right underneath the crown.  
"Ah... ah fuck... A-Al..." Mike mumbled in between whimpers and moans.

The essence of Mike was coming at a steady rate; it would not be long until it was over. Alexi wanted it to last longer, he wanted Mike to fuck his brains out right then and there, but it wasn't worth the risk of being caught. Alexi began to speed up his ministrations, enjoying pleasing Mike. Mike's hand lay lazily on the back of Alexi's head, Alexi now doing all the work. At this stage, Alexi was leaking precum at a healthy rate himself.  
"Fuck... Al... I'm gonna blow..." Mike warned.

Alexi smiled as he felt Mike's cock tremble, and with a lazy shove of the hips, Mike began to pump himself into Alexi's mouth. Although ready and anticipating, the sheer force of the glob hitting the back of Alexi's throat took him by surprise. Although Alexi gradually swallowed as much as he could that was pumped in his mouth, there was a lot of Awesome Spunk, some spilt on the ground and some dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. Alexi stood up, wiping the excess off his chin with his hand and wiping it against the wall.

"Thanks Al... thanks a lot." he smiled, breathlessly.

Alexi giggled and rubbed Mike's chest.  
"I think we should get back to the others," Alexi said. "Before they think something like... well, precisely this happened."

Mike poked at an exposed rib through a rip in Alexi's shirt. Alexi flinched from the ticklish sensation, then remembered that his shirt had been torn by the unforgiving arctic wall of doom. With an annoyed tut, he took it off, exhaling as the chilly air found his torso, looking at the tank top in his hands. The back was covered in grime.

"Well this one's a goner," he lamented, turning it over and over. "It's filthy."

"Here," said Mike, unbuttoning his cardigan. "Put this on, y'know, it's black, prob'ly can't see the shit on the back of it."

Alexi gratefully took the black cardigan as he and Mike turned the corner back on to the street. Even though what happened between them was random and confusing, it was really fun, and Mike was really sweet. Alexi was in the midst of walking and buttoning up the garment, when Miz suddenly stopped walking. A derisive chuckle rang out in the pleasant night air, acting as a poison to the elated atmosphere. That laugh belonged to Chris Jericho. What was he doing here? He got suspended in Brazil, didn't he?

"Can we help you, Mr. Irvine?" asked Alexi sweetly.

Chris sniggered.  
"Wouldn't this just get every tongue in the world wagging, hey?" he smirked, as Mike's face went completely white, and Alexi's heart stopped.

Chris held up his iPhone and waved it.  
"The new little queer who stole my main event push sucking the cock of The Miz, the father of Maryse's kid?" Chris began laughing. "You two will be laughed out of the locker room, and you, kid," he continued as he glared at Alexi. "Johnny's gonna fire you. He doesn't like faggots taking advantage of his drunk superstars, you getting me?"

"I-but I didn't... I only..." stuttered Alexi, tears beginning to well in his eyes. It was no secret that Johnny was deeply homophobic.

Chris smirked. "Aww, but but but, I, I, I, waaaaaaaah!" he mocked. "You guys are seriously filthy. Disgusting little faggots. Just wait til I email this little video to Johnny, hey? Or what about Maryse, Mike?"

Mike lunged at Chris and grabbed him by the scruff of his collar, his fist raised in the air. Chris cowered, and Alexi quickly grabbed Mike around the waist to pull him away before he did something stupid, and in the heat of the moment, Mike shoved Alexi to the ground. Alexi fell on the pavement on his butt, squeaking in surprise, looking emotionally devastated, and even the callous, heartless Chris looked shocked.  
"Sorry Al... sorry for everything." he muttered, before he simply began walking, away from the other two.

Alexi fought back the urge to cry as Mike just left him on his own with this monster. Chris scoffed.

"Man, that's rough, kid," Chris admitted. "Even I wouldn't have left you in the dirt with a bastard like me."

He spat, and the orb of saliva landed next to Alexi. Alexi looked terrified and upset, like a deer in the headlights.

"Don't worry about him," he said, maliciously. "I don't think you'll be employed long enough for the two of you to work it out. Enjoy the rest of your night as a Superstar, it might be your last. Fag."

Chris left, chuckling about his recent victory. Alexi bit down hard on his knuckle, fighting back a mental breakdown. Could his career really be over like that? Like this? How could Mike do that to him? How could he do what they did, then just leave Alexi with his career on the line because of that monster Jericho? **What am I going to do? I'll be... all alone.**


End file.
